


because you're mine

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, F/M, Morning After, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“God fucking- Mel- fuck- fucking lamp,” Phil Coulson mumbled into his girlfriend’s neck as they stumbled through his family house, the aforementioned lamp wobbling precariously on the end table before Melinda May righted it with the hand not looped around Phil’s neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	because you're mine

**Author's Note:**

> I needed philinda smut and then this happened so let's just go with it? Title from I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash (Halsey cover).

“God fucking- Mel- fuck- fucking lamp,” Phil Coulson mumbled into his girlfriend’s neck as they stumbled through his family house, the aforementioned lamp wobbling precariously on the end table before Melinda May righted it with the hand not looped around Phil’s neck.

“Shhhhh,” she whispered, mouth leaving wet kisses along Phil’s jaw as his arms tightened around her waist. “Your mom might be home.”

“Bingo night; she’s sleeping at Mary’s,” he replied, groaning as her thigh presses higher on his hip, the tight skirt of her dress exposing more of her milky thighs.

“In that case,” Melinda murmured, pulling away slightly and reaching for the hem of her dress; she tugged it over her head, tossing the dark blue fabric aside and leaving her in scarlet lace.

“Fuck me,” Phil breathed, the bulge in his pants growing as she palmed her breasts, moaning softly. “My room, _now_.”

Melinda let out a laugh as his hands gripped her hips nearly hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises, pushing her towards his room. His mouth latched onto her shoulders, teeth leaving marks as his hands slid over her skin; his hands covered her breasts, squeezing through the material as she moaned his name, pushing back against him. Her ass ground against where he was achingly hard and he grunted against her skin, thrusting against her heat.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” he growled into the skin of her neck as he shut the door behind them, one hand sliding into her panties; he couldn’t contain the noise of pure lust he made as he encountered the slick heat between her thighs, seeing red at the sharp inhale she took as the nail of his thumb flicked the edge of her clit. “God you’re absolutely soaking, Lin.”

“I want you,” Melinda replied breathily, pushing back against him while reaching behind her, attempting to tug his shirt up and over his head. He resisted, fingers slicking over the bud of her clit and drinking in the whine she gave. “Get naked, Phil.”

Reluctantly he removed his hands from the red fabric clinging to her hips and tugged his shirt over his head; Melinda tugged the belt from his jeans before she looped it around his waist. She pulled him down to kiss her as she fell back against his bed; the sight of her spread out across his Captain America sheets, dark hair fanning out behind her and making her look like an ethereal, ancient goddess captivated him to the point of speechlessness.

Melinda pulled him from his musings with her mouth against his throat; her leg hooked over his hip and she rubbed herself against him, giving panting little moans as their hips met. His hard cock nudged against the wet heat of her cunt through the thick denim of his jeans and they both groaned, hips coming together in another thrust as their lips met. She tasted like cheap tequila and limes, the barest trace of salt on her tongue as she shifted, causing his erection to press against her clit and her entire body screwed up, his name leaving her lips in a panting moan.

“Please get naked,” she panted, tugging at the hem of his jeans. “Right now. Let me put my mouth on you.”

“ _Fuck_ Melinda,” Phil manages to ground out before his fingers attack the button of his jeans; Melinda’s hands trace of his bare chest, tugging lightly on the sandy chest hair there before her lips press kisses in a line down his chest. She pushes him onto his back easily, fingers pushing the hem of his boxers down to the floor and licking her lips at the sight of his cock springing to attention once freed from the cotton prison.

“I’ve been thinking about you on my tongue all fucking day,” she informs him as she sinks to her knees, hands spreading his thighs easily, nails digging into the pale skin teasingly. Phil swallowed, propping himself up on his elbows as Melinda pressed stray kisses to his inner thighs, studiously avoiding where he clearly wanted her attention. “We went to church with your mom, and all I could think about was sinking down to my knees and unzipping those slacks you had on.”

Phil couldn’t even form words; Melinda’s delicate fingers wrapped around his straining cock, forming a tight ring that she moved up and down slowly, tongue tracing patterns into the skin just above his knees.

“I think about fucking you in public a lot. Do you think you could be quiet, Phil? Do you think you could be silent as I sank to my knees in Warren’s history lecture and got you off in the back row, with everyone in our class mere feet away? What if I did that thing, with my tongue? You know, the one you like so much, especially after a good sparring session?” Melinda asks her questions with a punctuation of her tongue sliding along his length, and he has no strength to keep the noise down. One of his hands threads through her hair; not guiding, but merely an anchor for himself as her lips form an ‘O’ around his cock and her head begins to bob.

Her fingers fondle his balls as her rhythm picks up; her name leaves his lips in a harsh groan and his fingers tighten in her hair. He can feel her smile around his dick though her speed never falters, and he can feel the orgasm cresting at the base of his spine. He’s a little drunk and a lot in love and Melinda’s fingernails are stroking his thigh soothingly; he manages to force out a grunt of “gonna come” before her name is the only thing on his brain before he empties himself down her throat.

Melinda swallows with grace, daintily dabbing at her lips as she kisses her way up his body; he watches as she gently pulls her fingers from where they’d been buried in her panties and he groans. She smirks, stretching out beside him, but her thighs are clenched together and he’s well aware she hadn’t gotten herself off as she’d pushed him over the edge.

“I love your mouth,” is all he can pant out without giving away too much; he knows how he feels but Melinda is different, and he has no intention of scaring her away by murmuring post-coital blissful nothings. She grins, leaning down to kiss him; he groans at the taste of himself in her mouth, hand coming up to grasp her hip before it trails up her back, tugging on the material of her bra. He frowns when it doesn’t give, and she guides his hand around her body, mouth still against his.

“In the front,” she whispers, and he feels the heat travel down his body, rushing directly into his cock once more despite his recent orgasm.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he tells her, watching as she shrugged the vermillion undergarment off, leaving her topless to his hungry eyes. “God I could just look at you forever.”

“Why look when you could touch?” she asks, fingers grasping his and bringing them to her body, sliding the calloused skin of his hands up her torso until he had a breast in each hand, kneading softly. She made a soft, keening noise as her head tipped back, eyes slipping shut while her dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. “ _Phil_.”

 “Say my name again,” he replies when she falls quiet, teeth sinking into her lower lip in concentration as her hips began to rock over his. She let out a breathy sigh of his name, hands coming up to twine in her hair as her hips slotted above his, rhythm slow but steady. Phil groaned, one hand sliding down to grip her hip as she rocked faster, his cock well on its way to being fully hard once more as Melinda’s movements increased, her panties drenched against where they met his skin.

“Want- want you,” Melinda managed to pant out, though the consistent thrusting of her hips didn’t stop, her heat unbearable against his rock hard dick.

“Condom,” he replies, and Melinda nods, rhythm slowing marginally as she leaned over him, fumbling through his desk drawer before she grasped her prize; she held it up triumphantly before she tore it open with her teeth. Reaching down, she masterfully unfurled the blue latex over his erection as his fingers slid inside her, moaning lowly at the overwhelming slickness of her cunt.

Melinda positions herself over him, reaching down to align them before she sinks down on top of him, a high-pitched keening noise leaving her as he buried himself to the hilt, hips snug underneath hers. He stilled, waiting for her; her face twisted for a moment before she shifted, lips parting as she exhaled, ending on a sigh that warmed the pit of his stomach.

They find their rhythm easily enough; they’ve been sleeping together long enough to know what they liked- what worked and what didn’t, how to get each other off, and just what made the other tick. Melinda’s nails dug cresent half-moons into his chest as she fucked herself on his cock; his hands burned bruises into her hips as he gripped her, thrusting up into her as best he could on his back.

They’re both so caught up in the moment, they don’t hear the front door open; Melinda is on the brink of coming when Phil’s bedroom door creaked open. There’s a soft “oh!” which is all that alerts them to Julie Coulson’s presence before the door is shut again; Melinda’s hips refuse to listen to her command to stop, and Phil’s finger slipping over her clit is enough to send her flying into orgasm, dragging Phil up and over with her in a crescendo of noise and heat, his name leaving her lips in such a breathless murmur he feels his toes curl.

Melinda collapses bonelessly against Phil, noise pressed to his chest as they attempt to catch their breath when they hear the soft, Midwestern-accented voice call through the thick oak door. “I hope you wore a condom, I’m not old enough to be a grandmother yet!”

* * *

The next morning dawns bright and embarrassing; Melinda curls further into Phil’s chest, groaning softly at the midday sunlight filtering in through the thin red curtains. “What if we just stay here for the rest of the weekend?”

“We have to face her at some point,” he murmurs into her hair, arms tightening reflexively around her, as though afraid she’ll leave his embrace. She sighs contentedly, happy with his skin against hers and his lips soft on her throat. “She likes you, you know.”

“I don’t exactly think I’m the kind of girl your mother imagined you dating,” she replies, lips curled softly in amusement, shaking her head at you fondly. He stiffens ever-so-slightly against her and she frowns, but she’s too sleepwarm against him, unable to open her eyes to look at him. “What’s wrong Phil?”

“So we are dating,” he states in what she’s sure he deems a neutral voice; though perhaps it’s simply because she knows him so well that she can hear the undercurrent of uncertainty. Her eyes opened, looking up to find him looking anywhere but her, fingers picking absentmindedly at the comforter covering them.

“Of course we are,” she replies simply, reaching one hand up to cup his chin, tilting gently until he was looking at her, blue eyes dark and unreadable. “You’re the only person I’ve been with, or wanted to be with, for nearly a year now, Phil. You know how I feel about you.”

He nodded, eyes soft; they couldn’t say the words- might never say the words, in all honesty- but they both knew that this was more than some college fling. This was a bond that would never fully be broken by the two of them, no matter where the road of life took them; even if it meant their paths had to separate and their lives differ from the course they were setting onto.

Phil leaned forward, kissing her softly; she melted into him, hands sliding into his hair as her thigh slipped over his hip, grinning against his mouth as she felt him half-hard against her inner thigh. Phil was about to roll her onto her back and cover her body with his when they heard a knock; moments later, his mother’s voice filtered through.

“Good morning, I made pancakes! I figured you both needed the carbs, considering last night. Melinda your dress is hanging up in the hall closest, since I’m assuming my son’s shirt from last night will be your outfit of choice for brunch.”

Melinda dropped her head to Phil’s chest, muffling her laughter against his chest as his cheeks flared pink, the tips of his ears pinkening in embarrassment as well as his mother spoke. Her fingers clutched him tightly though, unwilling to let go even once Julie had walked away, informing them they had ten minutes before breakfast got cold.

“Just five more minutes,” she murmured, tucking her head under Phil’s chin, body warm and relaxed, happiness radiating from every pore.

“We can stay here forever,” is all he murmured in response, and she smiled into his neck, fingers finding his and squeezing as they intertwined.


End file.
